


Electric Love

by orphan_account



Series: Jack and Cole-verse [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Cole/Jack verse now bitches, Cutting, Jack gets kinda suicidal but dont worry it ends well, M/M, Not beta'd we die like real men, Soft Hockey Boys, fuck if i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack hughes is GOING THRU IT and hides the struggle.But not really because it's a flashback.
Relationships: Cole Caufield/Jack Hughes
Series: Jack and Cole-verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779328
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Electric Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a part of the Jack/Cole universe that I'm building because I've exhausted all the other works about them. 
> 
> Also I don't know what I'm really doing. (Thanks to this being the first fic on THIS fandom)
> 
> :)

"Jacky?" Jack feels the bed shift as Quinn rolls onto it. "Why don't you want to come for dinner?"

Jack pulls the blankets up further, just wishing to disappear. He really doesn't want to be in the presence of Quinn. Quinn asks all the wrong (right) questions and either makes Jack feel a ton better or a ton worse.

In this case, it might be worse.

"Jack, hey." Quinn says, sharper than before. "Talk to me, bud, what's going on?"

Jack doesn't want to show him the tears he sheds or the nights where he cries to hard he throws up.

"Jack. Seriously." Quinn shakes Jack's shoulder, in an attempt to get him to move.

Jack sucks in a shaky breath, close to a sob. Quinn gasps, and Jack wants to die.

"Are you crying?" Quinn asks. Now he sounds scared. "Jack, what the hell is going on?"

"Leave me alone." Jack says, knowing that's not gonna work. "I didn't ask for your help."

Jack knows it sounds mean, and he fully expects Quinn to feel hurt.

"Jack. Tell me." Quinn pushes.

Jack inches away from Quinn. "Leave it." He says. "Leave me."

"No. Not until you tell me why you didn't come down for dinner, your freaking favorite dinner, Jack." Quinn pleads. 

"I didn't, didn't need it." Jack mumbles. "I don't need that stuff, the stuff I don't," his voice cracks on the last word. "Deserve."

"Jack." Quinn says. He sounds so scared.

"Not, not when everybody is calling me a failure. Why not just be even more of a failure?" Jack sighs, rubbing his thumb along the blankets. "Live up to the name."

"Jacky, no!" Quinn gasps.

"Quinn, just go." Jack says, closing his eyes, glad that Quinn never turned on the lights. 

Jack feels the bed shift, and suddenly Quinn is gone, out in the hallway, talking to Luke. 

"Lukey, don't go in there, okay?"

"What's happening? Is he okay?" Jack listens as Luke's tone changes from worried to scared, all in a sentence.

"Jack's going through something, okay?"

"Oh, um, okay?" Luke sounds just as scared as Quinn now.

Quinn comes back just as fast as he left.

"Jack. Get up. Sit up or stand up, I don't care." Quinn says, rolling back onto the bed.

Jack cries out. "No!" Heavy sobs wreck his body, and immediately Quinn feels bad.

"Jacky, buddy, you're okay. It's okay." Quinn has his whole body covering Jack's, a thing that makes Quinn himself feel comforted, but he's not so sure about Jack. "Jack, I need you to tell me what you need."

"I don't need anything!" Jack sobs. "I don't deserve anything!" He holds fast to Quinn's hoodie.

"Oh god." Quinn whispers.

Something clicks in his brain, and that's when Quinn knows this is more serious than he thought-

Quinn's eyes snap open. The dream he just had was so vivid, so nightmarish. He knows he should go check on Jack.

Throwing the covers off of his body, Quinn fumbles around for his phone, taking it with him just in case. 

Quinn opens the door to Jack's bedroom slowly, surprised to find the bathroom light shining underneath the door.

Quinn knocks gently, then presses his ear to the door. The unmistakable sound of dry heaving fills his ears  
  
He freezes. Oh god.

"Jacky?" He asks, turning the doorknob. It's locked. "Let me in." 

"No." It sounds as if Jack is crying. 

"Jack." Quinn tries. "Open the damn door."

Quinn hears a muffled sob, and finally the door unlocks. 

The sight isn't as bad as he thought, but it's still not good. Jack is lying across the cold bathroom tile, crying, two seconds away from throwing up.

"Jacky, it's okay. You're okay." Quinn says, moving to sit near Jack. 

Jack cries harder at that. "Just go. I don't deserve you here." He sobs.

Quinn gasps, not knowing what to say. He pulls Jack into his arms, smoothing his hair back. "Yes you do. You deserve everything." Quinn whispers. 

"No I don't! Not, not when everybody is calling me a failure. Why not just be even more of a failure?" Jack sobs. "Live up to the name."

"Jacky, no." Quinn says. "Jack, you don't get to think that. It doesn't matter what people think of you. You're playing in the NHL. That's an accomplishment on its own, Jacky. I love you. Luke loves you, mom and dad love you. The Devils love you, Jacky." Quinn rambles.

"Nobody else does, Quinny. They loved me when I played USA, because I was good. Now I'm really bad, Quinn. I don't play good anymore." Jack spits back. "I'm a failure." 

The tears come fast for Jack. Everytime he sees an Instagram comment about him being the worst rookie, he gets such an awful feeling, like he wants to shrivel away. Maybe he shouldn't have gone first overall. 

"I shouldn't have gone first." Jack adds.

"Yes you should have." Quinn reprimands. "Of course you should have."

Jack frowns, and scoots away from Quinn. "Just, let me be alone, okay?"

"No, Jack." Quinn says, reaching out and grabbing Jack's wrist impulsively. 

Jack cries out and twists away.

Quinn looks down at his hand like he's been burned, and Jack is rolling up his sleeve, staring down at the lines of dark red.

"You made me bleed," Jack whispers painfully.

Quinn looks confused for a second. "What?! How? I barely-" He freezes.

Jack freezes.

"Jack." Quinn says, and when Jack doesn't respond, "Jack!"

"I'm, I'm so sorry." He sobs. 

"Jack, are you cutting yourself?"

"I," the words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Not really, sorta, only when it gets really bad, I don't want to, I don't know how to stop," Jack rambles. 

"Jacky, you need to talk to mom and dad." Quinn says, reaching for Jack's hand.

"No!" He cries out, and at the same time, there's another knock at the door.

"Then I'll tell them." Quinn reasons.

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't!" Jack sobs.

"Can I come in? What's going on?" Luke. 

"Hold on one second, Luke." Quinn says, all calm for the situation. "Jack," he then whispers. "Do you want Luke in here?"

Jack nods slowly, even though he's afraid Luke will stop loving him if he sees him like this.

Luke enters the bathroom, and is torn between looking from Quinn to Jack. 

"Jack?" Is all Luke says. 

Jack doesn't look up, doesn't face Luke. He can't.

  
"Why did Jacky hurt himself?" Jack hears the muffled voices outside his bathroom door.

"Jacky doesn't know why he hurt himself, Luke. Just go to bed, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning." Quinn says.

"Oh. Okay." Jack hears the footsteps of Luke walking away, and Jack practically falls against the bathroom floor.

Quinn comes back, and pulls Jack into a sitting position. "Jack, why did you do it?"

Jack only has the energy left in him to cry.

The real reason he hurt himself?

The New Jersey Devils. Or more widely, the NHL.

The guys on the Devils love him, but upper management doesn't.

He shows up to practice twenty minutes late, just having finished another cutting and crying sesh. "Why are you so late?" One of his teammates asks. Jack just shakes his head, hopes they don't see the dark circles under his eyes or the cuts on his arms.

Bust.

Worst rookie ever.

Jack pushes the memory away, coming back to the present, where Quinn is holding has hand, rubbing along his thumb.

"I miss Cole." Jack says softly. Quinn knows exactly what he means by that.

"You could've talked to him, Jacky." Quinn whispers.

"No I couldn't." I couldn't. Jack thinks. He wouldn't get it. "I love Cole." Jack thinks outloud.

"I know, Jacky, I know." Quinn sighs.

Jack feels like it's hard to breathe. "I can't breathe," He whispers. He knows what a panic attack looks like, and he's having one right now.

Quinn isn't even paying attention. He's frowning at his phone, and incoming slew of texts from somebody. He gets up and leaves without a word.

Somehow, Jack feels worse, and begins to sob.

It's not until five minutes later that he starts throwing up.

He throws up twice, a haze around him as the bathroom door swings open.

Jack feels a hand on his back and flinches. "Jacky, honey," Jack knows that voice.

Cole Caufield.

Jack slumps down to the ground again, exhausted. 

It's not until Cole touches him again that Jack reacts.

"I don't deserve your love!" He screams. "Don't touch me!"

Cole draws his hand away like he's been burned, but moves in fiercer two second later.

"Jack." He says. "Quit it. I know people are saying that you're the NHL' s worst rookie ever or that you're a bust but you're not. You're good. So good." Cole whispers, smoothing Jack's hair back, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Jack tries to wriggle out of Cole's grasp, but it doesn't work. Jack soon relaxes, more relaxed than Quinn had seen him tonight.

Jack buries his face in Cole's sweatshirt, breathing in his scent.

His breathing returns to normal, and he starts to relax. Quinn doesn't know how Cole does it.

"Mind if I go back to bed?" Quinn asks, knowing full well he won't sleep again.

Cole nods. "I've got him."

It's quiet for a few minutes as Jack struggles to talk. "I, I'm sorry you had to come here, Wisconsin is far."

"Not really. I was going to come see you today anyway." Cole says, like it wasn't a big deal.

"Cole," Jack whispers. "Can you distract me?"

"In what way?" Cole asks softly.

"Suckmydick." Jack feels embarrassed, but Cole doesn't look embarrassed in the slightest.

"Let's go to your bedroom." Cole says it like the bedroom is a long trek away, not just outside the door. When Jack doesn't move, he grabs his hand and pulls him up. "C'mon." 

Cole practically carries Jack to his bed, but he doesn't mind.

Jack let's Cole do whatever he wants, let's Cole have his way, because Jack can't have anything he wants.

Jack is close to coming, pulling at Cole's hair. "C-Cole, I'm gonna," Jack squeals as he comes, sobbing and screaming.

Cole moves upwards, cuddling against Jack's shaking body.

"I'm so sorry!" He screams. "I fucked everything up!" 

"Jack, calm down." Cole whispers. "It's okay. I love you.'

Jack sobs harder, pressing his face against Cole's shirt. "I don't even know why you love me!"

"I just do, baby. I've loved you since we were NTDP." Cole says softly. "If you want to, we can sleep. It's two am."

Jack sighs softly, then hiccups, the tears streaming down his face, all his noises gone.

Cole pulls him in close, and Jack finally, finally falls asleep, tucked against Cole.

  
When Jack wakes up, there's pale early morning light filtering through the curtains in his bedroom. 

It takes him a hot moment to remember the events of last night, but remembers pretty quick when he sees Cole's arm draped across him.

Jack collapses a little more, nuzzling his face into Cole's side.

"Jacky," Cole mumbles, pulling Jack close. "Are you okay?"

Jack nods against Cole's side.

Cole reaches for Jack's limp body, dragging him up to his face, kissing him like he means it. "I love you, okay?"

"Mmm." Jack mumbles. "M' sorry bout last night."

"It's okay." Cole says. "I'll tell Quinn you're okay now."

Am I okay? Jack thinks. He doesn't want to think anymore, so he just nuzzles into Cole's side, and Cole wraps him up into his arms, protective.

"I'm never little spoon," Jack whispers, in awe of himself. "Wow."

"Today you are," Cole smiles. "You deserve to be held, and don't you dare say otherwise."

Jack relaxes against Cole, and Cole reaches for his arm, subtly rubbing along it, murmuring in Jack's ear. "I love you, you know? You're the best. So good. Just for me."

It's not until Cole pushes his sleeve up that Jack gets defensive. 

"Woah, hey!" Jack snaps, standing up, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Sit back down." Cole says. "I wasn't done."

"I know what you're doing!" He cries out. "I don't like that! Get out!"

"No." Cole says. "Things aren't going to go your way for a while. I want you to get better, and I know the second I leave you'll be in your bathroom with a blade, cutting your arm."

"No!" 

"Just let me look at it. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yes you are!" Jack shrieks. "Everyone wants to hurt me!"

"No, Jack. Nobody wants to hurt you. You want to hurt yourself because you think people want to hurt you." Cole says, tearing up. 

Jack sobs and slumps against the bed, throwing his arms out so Cole can look at them.

Cole leaps off the bed, grabbing a sharpie from the bedside table. "Jacky, I'm gonna draw something on your arm, okay?"

Cole touches the capped sharpie to Jack's skin, waiting for a reaction. When all he gets is a whimper, he continues.

"Jack, this is a butterfly." Cole tells him, drawing a butterfly onto Jack's skin, right on top of one of the older scars. "If you ever feel like cutting yourself again, you draw one of these, okay?"

Cole caps the sharpie, running his fingertips along Jack's arm.

"I love you, Jack. You're so good." Cole murmurs, drawing Jack back into a hug-

Jack's eyes snap open, staring up at a white ceiling.

He doesn't know where he is.

He let's out a panicked squeal, and makes an attempt to sit up. Someone catches his wrist. 

"Jack, you're okay." Quinn. "I'll tell Cole you're awake."

"Wha, What happened?"

"You got hurt at your game. You're fine now, but it was scary." Quinn tells him.

Jack panics. He remembers it vividly, getting checked into the Avalanche bench. He remembers hitting his head, then blacking out.

"Why, what? Why is Cole here?" It takes Jack a second to remember that, oh. Yeah. Cole's his boyfriend. They've been dating for a year.

"Cole's your boyfriend." Quinn says, and Jack feels the sudden urge to joke with him.

"My what now? I'm gay?" Jack asks, thinking his acting is on point.

Quinn shoots him a worried look. "First one in the league, buddy, you and Cole. Why don't you remember that?"

Jack does. He remembers that one June, a year ago, posting a picture of him and Cole, holding hands, with just the caption: Surprise.

"I don't know." Jack says. "Am I supposed to?"

"God, you must'a hit your head really hard if you think I was believing you for a second, Jacky." Quinn smiles.

"Oh, fuck you." Jack laughs. 

"Can I actually get Cole from his sobfest or..." Quinn trails off.

Jack nods.

The second Quinn leaves, Jack looks down at his arms.

Fuck.

They discovered the cuts. Jack sighs, and falls backwards onto the less than soft hospital bed.

The cutting started towards the middle of Jack's rookie year, back when he was still playing with New Jersey. Now he plays for Minnesota, since Jersey decided he wasn't useful after a year, and Minnesota was rebuilding.

"Jack Jack Jack Jack!" Cole says, practically flinging himself at Jack. Cole tumbles awkwardly onto the bed next to Jack. Thank God you're not dead."

"Why would I be dead?"

"I dunno." Cole shakes his head. "You fell hard and you cut yourself."

"I'm fine though, Cole. Really." Jack rests his head on Cole's shoulder.

"Your parents will be here soon." Cole whispers, playing with Jack's hair. "Quinn just called them."

"Cole, Why'd you come all the way from Montreal?" Just to see me? Jack doesn't add.

"Well, before you got hurt, I had something planned. But it can wait." Cole says.

"No, I wanna know." Jack says, poking Cole's ribs where he's ticklish. "I hate surprises, you know."

"Jack. It's big. It has to wait." Cole says nervously.

"I'm done waiting for things, Cole. I almost died."

"You literally just said you weren't going to die." Cole points out, making Jack giggle.

"Please tell me what it is?"

"Jack, promise you won't tell at me or pass out or something, okay?"

Jack nods, and Cole slides off the bed, reaching into his pocket. Before Jack can say anything, Cole is on his knee.

"Okay, I'm not technically proposing to you, yet, but I bought us a house. Here. In Minnesota. And everytime I visit and in the off season, we can live there together, okay?" Cole sounds nervous, and Jack can't help but laugh.

"Cole, of course I'll move in with you!" Jack grins. "If, we can get a dog."

Cole shakes his head but smiles, standing up.

He walks back over to Jack, and Jack grabs his shirt, suffocating him in a kiss.

"Oh, boys," the familiar sound of Jack's mom's voice fills the air. "Am I interrupting?"

Jack flashes a grin at his mom, and pulls Cole back in for another kiss.


End file.
